


Red Velvet and Blue Hydrangeas

by Trashness



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Baker Haru, Bakery Au's are my jam, Fireman Makoto, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Where the hell was this going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:31:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashness/pseuds/Trashness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto feels like the worst friend in the world. He's forgotten all about Rin's birthday, and to make matters worse, he's running through the streets still in his firefighter uniform desperately trying to find a birthday cake. Thankfully he finds a bakery with a very talented and very beautiful blue eyed baker to help him out of this situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Velvet and Blue Hydrangeas

**Author's Note:**

> WHY IS THIS SO LONG? WHY?  
> I should've broken this into chapters. WELP.  
> I wrote this because I love super cliched bakery au's. Yes i love them so much. Everyone go out and write bakery au's for me, please. They're like coffee shop au's but so much sweeter.
> 
> Hahaaaaaa see what I did there?
> 
> Also in the language of flowers, hydrangeas mean "Thank you for understanding". SO there you go.
> 
> EDIT: This now has a sequel! So if you enjoyed this but wanted some more.... Seeeexxxuuuuaaaal content go check it out at: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4667843

**To Makoto: Hey just wanted to double check, you’re still cool to pick up the cake for tonight right?**

**To Sousuke: Oh yeah! No problem. I’ve got it covered.**

**To Makoto: Thanks man. You’re like our one reliable friend. I’ll pay you back.**

**To Sousuke: No need** **J I’ll see you tonight.**

Makoto sends the text message as calmly as he can and tucks his phone back into his bag.

“SHIT!” He yells into his locker. He shucks off his jacket and boots, slips on a pair of loafers and grabs his bag. He slams the locker shut, runs out of the room and slides down the pole to the bottom floor.

“Tachibana! The pole is for emergencies!” His captain’s voice rings out from his office.

“This is a personal emergency! Sorry Captain!” Makoto calls up before sprinting out of the fire house. He continues to sprint down the road, looking wildly around him. Goddamit, how could he have forgotten to get a cake? More to the point, how could he have forgotten about Rin’s birthday entirely? His overnight shifts were wreaking havoc on his state of mind. Sousuke had asked him to pick up a cake weeks ago. “Nothing fancy. Just something to put candles in” he had said. Makoto feels like the worst friend in the world and he makes a note to shout Rin and Sousuke’s drinks sometime. His legs push him further up the sleepy, suburban street, but they are starting to slow down under the weight of his fire suit pants. He curses not bringing a pair of shorts to change in to.

 

Makoto looks around at the different stores and cafes that line the street. It’s four o’clock in the afternoon and many of the breakfast and lunch places are starting to shut down. There’s also no grocery store nearby, so he can’t even pick up a cheap sponge cake and some icing to write “Happy Birthday” on it himself. He’s about to just go home and drive to the closest grocery store when he sees it. It’s quaint and it’s exterior easily blends in with the high class cafes and coffee houses around it. There are flower boxes outside the windows that hold an array of blooming petunias, and written in delicate, flowery script on the window is the name of the bakery.

 

Iwatobi-chan’s.

 

Makoto looks at the odd name skeptically, but he doesn’t have time to complain. It’s a bakery. And for the next 45 minutes, it’s actually open. Makoto bursts through the front door panting. A bell tinkles and a surprised looking baker walks towards the service counter. He takes in Makoto’s disheveled state, his heavy breathing and his uniform pants. The baker’s sapphire blue eyes widen with worry.

“Hi, hi sorry, I know you’re about to close…” Makoto practically flops onto the counter and manages to get the words out between gasps.

“Is there a problem?” The baker’s smooth voice asks. His clear eyes still look anxious.

“What? Why would there…?”

“Is there a fire?” The baker starts to look through the front window, trying to glance see if there is any disturbance outside. Makoto smiles and the baker audibly inhales.

“No, no. sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you like that. I just finished a shift.” Makoto continues to smile, but feels himself falter when the baker visibly relaxes. Makoto had already noticed his eyes, but he hadn’t noticed the baker’s porcelain skin or how his dark hair sweeps delicately over his forehead. He hadn’t noticed how the baker’s apron tapered in his uniform to reveal his slim waist, or how his collar was partially opened to give a peek of fine collarbones.

“That’s good. Then you were after something?” The baker’s voice knocks Makoto out of his trance.

“Yes!... uh yes…” Makoto picks himself up and regulates his breathing.  “I’m really sorry to do this when you’re so close to closing, but I need a cake.”

“What sort?”

“Anything you have that’s ready to go.” Makoto nervously laughs. “I uh… I kinda forgot it was my friend’s birthday.” Makoto sheepishly glances at the baker and wrings his hands together. His bright green eyes shine brightly through the curtain of his brown hair.

“That’s fine.” The baker’s eyes stare at Makoto’s smile a little longer than necessary. “I’ll see what we have.”

 

The baker goes to the glass cabinet and has a look at all the pre-made cakes.

“I have a strawberry shortcake.”

“Mmmm, too sweet I think.”

“Mudcake?”

“I don’t think he likes chocolate that much.” Makoto steps over to the glass cabinet to kneel in front of where the baker points to the different cakes. They’re all lovely to look at, clearly made with sure and steady hands.

“Red velvet?”

Makoto eyes the large cake in front of him. It has simple white icing with cherries sitting atop rosettes of cream around its perimeter. Makoto smiles when he thinks about how the inside will probably match Rin’s hair colour.

“Yeah, that should work.” Makoto flashes his trademark smile again and the baker begins to pull the cake out of the fridge. He neatly sits it on a gold and white striped piece of cardboard that can be folded into a neat box.

“Did you want anything written on it?” The baker asks.

“If it’s not too much trouble?” Makoto pleads. The baker shakes his head with a shadow of smile.

“It’s fine.” He walks over to where Makoto stands to hand him a form and a pencil. A bold heading at the top of the form reads “Cake custom order”.

“Can you write what you want? I need it written down so I can plan it and spell everything correctly.”

“Oh ok!” Makoto bends over the form and begins to write out  “Happy Birthday, Rin!” when the door bells chime behind him.

 

“Ugh! Sorry, Haru. The line at the bank was crazy! But everything got deposited alright.” A frustrated girl blows loudly into the bakery. Makoto hears her stop behind him.

“Ooooh, fireman.”

Makoto spins over his shoulder, face lit up in a heavy blush, at the girl’s low and flirty voice.

“ACK! MAKOTO!” The girl’s face flushes the same colour as her hair.

“Kou?!”

The two of them stare at each other, their faces blushing furiously and their eyes widen with embarrassment. Then Gou relaxes and punches Makoto in the arm.

“What are you doing here? It’s been ages!” She laughs and slips behind the counter. She opens the register and begins to place some change in it that she pulls out of her purse.

“You work here?” Makoto asks breathlessly. Why hadn’t _she_ offered to organize the cake then?!

“Yeah! A year now. You still haven’t said….” Her eyes fall on the form that Haru takes from Makoto. A devious grin spreads across her features.

“Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“I uh…”

“You fucked up.” Gou smirks. Makoto is about to protest, but he slumps over in defeat.

“Yeah… yeah I fucked up.”

Gou laughs and pats Makoto on the arm.

“It’s fine. I’ve done it so many times. Sousuke one time forgot it was his and Ron’s anniversary. Oh man! That was really the worst.” At this, Gou throws her head back and really laughs.

“Anyway, what kind of cake did you get?” Gou leans back to take a peak at Haru elegantly icing the top of the cake.

“Red velvet. Will he like it?”

“Oh great choice! That’s his favorite!”

Makoto relaxes and slips his hands into his pant pockets.

“Thank god.” He sighs. He then looks up at Gou who leans forward on the counter, resting her head in her hands and smiling easily up at Makoto. “It’s really nice to see you, Kou.”

“You too.” A slight flush creeps up on her cheeks.

 

Haru places the cake down in front of Makoto for him to inspect the writing.  
“Is this alright?” The writing is beautiful. It’s been masterfully handled and glides brilliantly in striking red lettering.

“It’s amazing.” Makoto beams and Haru nods.

“Hope this guy was nice to you” Gou jabs a thumb towards Haru. “Haru usually stays in the back, so he doesn’t get much practice with customers.”

“No no!” Makoto waves his hands. “He was great. I was in such a panic, he was amazing. Really.”

Gou narrows her eyes at Makoto.

“Okkkaaay.”

Haru slides the wrapped up cake towards Makoto whilst Gou rings him up. She gives him a small discount and a wink. Makoto’s strong arms easily carry the cake out in one arm, allowing him to wave with the other.

“Thanks so much guys! This really made my night!” He calls as he pushes the door open.

“See ya tonight, Makoto!” Gou waves back and Haru gives a slight nod.

 

Gou begins to close down the register for the night, and she expects Haru to start pulling items out of the glass cabinet, but instead he hovers around her.

“Haru…?”

“How do you know that guy?” He asks. His eyes still trail after where Makoto last stood on the sidewalk.

“Makoto?” She perks up.

“Makoto.” Haru says his name, like he’s testing out the way it feels in his mouth. Gou waves him off.

“Makoto and I have history. He’s a friend of my brother, Rin. He’s the one that set us up.” Gou deposits the money from the register into the safe.

“Oh?”

“But it did _not_ go well.” Gou laughs darkly. Haru looks at her with concern, then turns to look at where Makoto previously was.

“Gou, did he…?” He starts protectively.

“Oh god no!” Gou cuts him off before he can even insinuate anything.

“Makoto was perfect. Usually I’m skeptic of my brother’s friends, but Makoto was a real gentleman. And _so hot_.” Gou whines with regret. Haru doesn’t ask her to keep going, but he doesn’t have to.

“Too bad he’s hella gay.” Gou sighs then chuckles to herself. Haru’s eyebrows leap up.

“But that made him even nicer! He _knew_ he wouldn’t be interested in me, but he still showed up and gave me a great time. He brought me flowers, Haru! Flowers! And he did all that because he felt so bad that he wouldn’t be able to _actually_ date me!” Gou throws her arms out in frustration. “Who _does_ that?” She laughs.

“He is going to make some man extreeeeemely happy” She droans. Haru hums in thought.

 

It is late afternoon the next day and Haru is once again alone and packing up the glass cabinet when Makoto walks in. Soft beams of yellow sun sink in from the front window and encase Makoto in their glow. Haru stops what he’s doing and approaches the counter to meet him. He isn’t panting or broken out in a sweat this time, but he still looks nervous. He carries a bouquet of dark blue hydrangeas.

“Uh…” Makoto tries to start, but he can’t seem to get the words over his clumsy tongue. Haru’s eyes flash between Makoto’s blushing face to the flowers in his hands.

“Makoto, right?” Haru offers.

“Yes! Yes…” Makoto laughs at his outburst. “Um, I got these for you. For you and Kou for helping me out yesterday. You really saved me.”

Haru stares open mouthed at Makoto before he takes the flowers.

“Thank you.” He smiles down at the dark blue petals. “They’re beautiful.”

 _They’re the same colour as your eyes_ Makoto wants to answer, but he swallows it down.

“Yeah.” Is all he breathes out.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Haru glances up, not removing his nose from the bouquet. “And I’m sorry Gou isn’t here today to see them.”

Makoto leans comfortably on the counter.

“Yeah, she had _too_ much fun at the party last night I think.” Makoto mumbles and Haru rolls his eyes knowingly.

“But it’s ok. They’re mainly for you anyway. Everyone really liked the cake.”

“Oh.” A faint blush creeps along Haru’s pale cheeks.

“Haru.”

“What?”

“Haru… is my name. I never told you.”

“Oh.” Makoto begins to outstretch his hand. Haru takes it. His hands are surprisingly soft against Makoto’s large, dry, calloused ones. Haru doesn’t mind though. He finds them warm and their strong grip, reassuring.

“Makoto. Makoto Tachibana.” Makoto shakes his hand. “But sounds like you already knew that.”

Haru nods. “Gou told me about you.”

At this Makoto’s eyebrows shoot up and he lets go of Haru’s hand limply.

“She called you perfect.” And Makoto swears he can almost make out a smirk on the young baker’s face. He can feel his own cheeks grow hot and he starts to back away.

“W…well thanks, Haru. I really just came to drop those off.”

“Makoto?”

Makoto stops dead at the sound of his name. So soft, but it carries effortlessly through the cozy bakery. He turns to see Haru still at the counter placing the bouquet into a vase lovingly.

“Thank you.” Is all Haru says. Makoto beams bright enough to provide enough sunlight for a million hydrangeas, then walks out of the bakery.

 

From then on, Iwatobi-chan’s becomes a regular stop for Makoto. He drops by when they are just opening to grab himself a croissant or muffin for breakfast, or he’ll dart out for lunch and grab a sandwich, roll, or pastie. Gou is usually there and they talk like old friends, but it’s always Haru that serves Makoto. He recognizes his light, chime like laugh and emerges from the back of the bakery, covered in flour and sweat. He serves Makoto, talks with him about his day, whether any stressful fires have occurred, then slides back into the kitchen when Makoto leaves. During the lunch rush the bakery gets quite busy. Large groups of businessmen and women dart in for something quick to eat before they have to go back to their cramped offices. Gou manages the rush spectacularly well, and Haru will come out to fill orders, but he always brushes past Gou to serve Makoto. He serves Makoto _and only_ Makoto, before he hands the register back to Gou.

 

Eventually the small bakery ingrains itself into Makoto’s routine. He factors it into his budget, and the smell of fresh baked bread and hydrangeas begin to smell like home. Makoto tells himself he keeps visiting because the food is good and well priced, and he’s far too busy to make himself meals on days he’s working. It has nothing to do with Haru’s bright eyes, or the way his head peeks out of the kitchen when Makoto walks in, or how Makoto’s stomach flips when Haru actually smiles at him or gives him a discount.

“For friends” Haru justifies, and Makoto feels his chest pang under a new weight.

Haru even starts to learn Makoto’s schedule. Mondays he comes in for breakfast. He’ll want a croissant, heated, with butter. Tuesdays are a day off. Wednesdays and Fridays he’ll want lunch. Usually a pumpkin pastie, but he’ll get a spinach and ricotta roll if they’re available. Thursdays are another day off. Saturdays are breakfast, but they’re particularly hard for Makoto, so he’ll want something really sugary and fattening to get him through the morning. Haru has all of these, put aside and specially made for Makoto when he comes in. He makes sure Makoto’s croissant is the fluffiest one, and that his pasties always have slightly more potato and pepper in them. He makes sure to plan a batch of butterscotch or white chocolate and raspberry muffins into the schedule for those difficult Saturday mornings. Haru has no idea when he started mapping his baking schedule around Makoto’s eating schedule. It’s more work, and he should just go back to baking what he wants to, but then he sees Makoto’s face. The way he looks so thankful whenever Haru comes out of the kitchen, skips the line, and hands Makoto’s lunch directly to him.

“I can wait in line.” Makoto will always say, heating the entire bakery with his warm and sunny demeanor.

“It’s fine.” Haru will always reply.

 

It’s one of those painful Saturday mornings when Haru pulls a batch of slices out of the oven. He hears the front door bell chime and pokes his head through the doorway. Makoto is looking bleak, but he pulls together a smile for Haru.

“Hey.” He wipes his face.

“Hello.”

Haru feels guilty seeing Makoto like this. He knows these mornings are hard for him, but it’s probably Haru’s favorite time. It’s early, but because it’s Saturday, most of his potential customers are sleeping in. Gou doesn’t start til later, and the streets and his bakery are quiet. On these mornings it’s just him, Makoto and the gentle whirring of the mixing machines. Makoto is also in less of a rush these mornings, so he’s able to linger for a while and talk to Haru longer. Haru rarely talks back, but he enjoys listening to Makoto’s stories. He likes the stories about menial tasks best. Like cats stuck in odd places or old ladies refusing to move from their apartments for a fire drill. Makoto always smiles more in these stories. He is also never in danger during these stories.

 

Makoto waits for Haru to serve him at the counter. He stifles a yawn and closes his eyes tightly, so he doesn’t see Haru stick his head out of the kitchen again.

“Actually could you come here for a second?”

Makoto tries to listen for any urgency in Haru’s voice, but finds none. So he isn’t hurt. Maybe he needs something lifted? Makoto can’t think of any other reason Haru would invite him into his kitchen. Makoto slides past the counter and enters the warm space. He looks around at the kitchen, noting the drums of different kinds of flours and sugars. A large bench in the center is currently covered in dough and flour, and several ovens chug away in the corner. The smell of bread rising is intoxicating.

“Haru?” Makoto makes his way over to Haru, who is slicing up the thing he’s just taken out of the oven.

“I wondered if you’d taste this for me. It’s a new recipe I’m testing.” Haru lifts the golden, steaming slice onto a plate for Makoto. Makoto looks at it with an excited gleam in his eye.

“What’s in it?”

“It’s cardamom slice. It’s supposed to be spicy.”

Haru barely manages to finish his explanation before Makoto shoves the slice into his mouth. Haru sighs and shakes his head at Makoto’s enthusiasm. Makoto chews thoughtfully, turning the sweet and spicy slice across his palette. It isn’t like anything Makoto has ever tasted before. It isnt’t like a cinnamon, or a nutmeg, but it makes his mouth tingle and heat and sugar warm him from the inside.

“It’s really good!” He lightly gasps and takes another bite.

“You like it?” Haru almost sounds worried.

“It’s great, Haru! You’re amazing.” Makoto finishes the rest of his slice, then licks his finger tips. Haru watches the way Makoto moves his tongue deftly around his fingers and feels the need to look away. He cuts two more slices  and places them in a paper bag.

“Here.” He hands it to Makoto who doesn’t make a move.

“Have them. It’s just a test batch.”

Makoto’s expression melts into a warm smile, and Haru can feel the warmth of it glance across his cheeks.

“Thank you.” Makoto takes the bag and brushes his fingers against Haru’s. Haru makes a note to turn the ovens down because it suddenly feels unusually warm.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Makoto asks.

Haru wears a small smile and nods.

 

This too starts to become a tradition. Whenever Haru wants to try something new, Makoto is always the first to sample it. He always oohs and ahhs over Haru’s abilities and Haru always feels light and warm at the compliments. He also notices that he starts to make more sweet things dripping with honey and spices, because those are Makoto’s favorite. Haru knows he should aim to please the wider market, but that doesn’t make his stomach flutter in the same way that pleasing Makoto does.

 

Makoto sits on a drum of castor sugar, trying out a new maple syrup and banana muffin, looking more exhausted and drawn out than usual. The smell of smoke clings to his skin.

“Did you not shower last night?”

“Hmm?” Makoto is drawn out of himself.

“You smell like a fire. Did you not shower before heading off to work?” Haru asks, loading up a take away bag for Makoto.

“Oh, no no. I actually just finished a shift.” He laughs, but Haru looks at him like he doesn’t quite understand.

“Whenever I’m in here on a Saturday morning, it’s not because I’m starting a shift, it’s because I’ve just finished one.” Makoto shyly smiles and licks some stray syrup from his bottom lip.

“Why are you here? You should go home and rest?” Haru hands Makoto his take away bag.

“I am really hungry, and a lot of the times I’m too wired to go to sleep just yet.” Makoto chuckles. “I actually finished a couple of hours ago, but I go to the gym for a bit to burn off excess energy.” Makoto slumps to the side, resting his head on the wall and closing his eyes. “But I think it worked too well, and my body always hurts afterwards.”

Haru looks down at Makoto’s exhausted form. So that’s why Saturday mornings were always particularly rough for him. Haru stands over him. His hands tremble, and he dares to brush Makoto’s soft hair back from his face. Makoto leans into the touch. It smells like butter and melted sugar, with just a bit of lavender from Haru’s hand soap.

“You know… I’m here from five o’clock” Haru tries to rub the bags under Makoto’s eyes away with his thumb. “You could come here earlier if you’d like. That way you can get to sleep earlier.”

Makoto opens his eyes and smiles into Haru’s hand. Haru jerks his hand away like he’s been burnt.

“You’d let me do that?” Makoto murmurs.

“Yes.” Haru breathes.

“Thank you, Haru. You’re very kind.” Makoto starts to pull himself up, but stumbles under his exhaustion. Haru grabs him around the chest. His face is pressed into Makoto’s shoulder and the smell of smoke burns his nostrils. But his hands are splayed against Makoto’s broad chest, and Haru briefly imagines what Makoto looks like _underneath_  his shirt. The thought spooks him and he quickly sweeps it away.

“Sorry, sorry.” Makoto starts to pull himself off, but Haru still holds onto his shirt. Just in case.

“Go home. Go to sleep.” To anyone else, Haru’s words would sound rude. But Makoto understands the hidden sentiment.

“Of course.” Makoto chuckles. “You’re always taking care of me.”

 

Makoto takes Haru up on his offer and comes into the bakery every Saturday morning at 5 am. And he wasn’t lying. Makoto is always brimming with energy and anxiously looking for things to do. Haru sets him to work chopping nuts or pieces of fruit, or using his strong arms to hand mix thick batches or knead lumps of dough. Makoto likes the work and the feeling of actually creating something. Haru is patient with him, but he is also a fast learner. He also finds that he enjoys watching Haru actually work. His eyebrows slightly draw in and his mouth sets in a hard line when he’s really concentrating. Makoto admires the focus and precision that comes through all of Haru’s movements. He knows he shouldn’t stare, but he feels like he can get away with it when it’s this early in the morning and Haru is so lost in his work. Haru never notices. Just like how Makoto never notices Haru staring at his large hands, or the puffs of flour that mark his sun tanned cheeks. Haru smiles and resists the urge to brush it away. _Cute._ Haru pushes such thoughts away again.

 

“What do you like to do, Haru?” Makoto asks pleasantly over a lump of dough he’s methodically kneading. Haru arches an eyebrow questioningly.

“I mean like what do you do besides bake? What interests you?” Makoto looks up into Haru’s cool gaze. Haru looks back down at the flour he’s currently sifting.

“Not much.” He shrugs, but Makoto doesn’t accept it.

“I uh… I like art.”

“Really?” Makoto beams. “Do you draw?”. Haru blushes and nods, never taking his eyes away from his job.

“I’d really like to see.”

“No.” Haru shuts him down. It’s kind of curt and abrupt, but Makoto doesn’t take it to heart. He just shakes his head and holds up his hands in surrender.

“Maybe one day. When you trust me more.”

 

“What do _you_ like to do?”

Makoto perks up at the sound of Haru’s voice on a chilly Saturday morning. Makoto is slicing up some granny smith apples, whilst Haru takes a break and warms himself in front of the grumbling ovens.

“What do _I_ like to do?” Makoto clarifies. Haru nods.

“I like this.” Makoto nods. Haru eyes him with an unamused expression. Makoto chuckles into his chest at the sight.

“I uh… I used to volunteer at an animal shelter. My favorites were the kittens.”

Haru tries to imagine the broad, gentle, giant, Makoto, holding and coddling over kittens. It suits him far too well. _You are perfect_. Haru wants to yell at him.

“I like cats too.” He says instead.

“Yeah?” Makoto lights up and leans forward on the counter. “Do you have one? Have you ever had one? What’s your favorite colour?”

Haru hides his amused grin.

“No. No, and I don’t have one.” Makoto seems to deflate at this. “Do _you_ have a favorite colour?” Haru asks.

Makoto straightens at this and rubs his jaw whilst he’s deep in thought. It’s a simple question, but he gives it all of his attention.

“I like black cats.” He declares.

“Black ones?”

“Yeah! With bright, pretty eyes. They’re the cutest I think.” Makoto looks up with his large youthful face, expecting Haru to understand.

“Idiot.” Haru whispers and playfully flicks a cloud of flour at Makoto. Makoto steps back and splutters with shock. He endures a second shock when he sees the playful smirk on Haru’s lips. He admires Haru’s sleek, dark hair and the way his eyes gleam in the morning light.

_Yeah. Definitely the cutest._

 

“Here.” Haru hands Makoto a steaming cup of tea. The mornings are frigid now, but the bakery remains a warm haven for Makoto. He sits on a stool and leans against the corner. His exhaustion is palpable and he wreaks of smoke and sweat. Makoto smells like this more frequently on these cold winter mornings. He blames it on ancient heating systems, or home owners not properly attending to fire places. The smell always sends Haru’s nerves on edge.

“Thank you.” Makoto rouses himself from dozing to take the hot mug. He brings it to his lips and lets out deep sigh when the hot liquid runs down his scratchy throat. Haru sits next to him and holds a small black book on his lap. He flips through the yellowed pages and Makoto can just make out delicate lead pencil scratches.

“Haru? Are these…?” Makoto pulls his shoulder off the wall. Haru nods.

“You said you wanted to see them?”

Makoto nods his head and falls closer to Haru.

“I do. I really do.”

Haru flips to the start of the book and begins to point out different drawings he’s done. Some of the places and people Makoto recognize, but others Haru has to explain.

“Is that Kou?” Makoto chuckles. The drawing is of an irritated looking girl, leaning on a counter next to a register. The rough sketch is alive with character. Each sketch manages to capture a moment or tell a story.

“It looks just like her.” Makoto sighs an easy smile and drops his head on Haru’s shoulder. His bones ache and he’s having difficulty keeping himself upright. At least, that’s the answer Makoto would give if you asked him. His soft hair tickles against Haru’s jaw line and the smell of ash surrounds him. But Haru doesn’t pull away.

 

It’s a brisk Wednesday afternoon and Makoto is eating his lunch in the common room of the fire house. He’s flipping through a magazine and munching on the hot and flaky spinach and ricotta roll Haru has made fresh that morning, when Makoto’s captain walks into the room.

“Tachibana!” His voice booms jubilantly through the room. His strong arm comes down to pat Makoto on the shoulder.

“C…captain Mikoshiba!” Makoto jumps in his skin and desperately tries to breathe around the piece of roll that he has abruptly swallowed. Captain Mikoshiba gives Makoto a few hard pats on the back while he coughs.

“Whoa, whoa, you alright there? I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m fine.” Makoto wheezes. Seijuurou takes a seat across from Makoto and props his feet up on a nearby chair. His flaming red hair manages to capture the last few golden rays that filter through the dusty windows.

“Ah, another excellent looking lunch. You’ve been getting a lot of those lately.” Seijuurou eyes the roll in Makoto’s hand. Makoto nods, but notices that his captain’s eyes do not stray.

“Do you… do you want a bite?”

“What? Oh no, I’m fine, I could neverOK” Seijuurou excitedly grabs the roll and takes a good sized bite. Light flakes of pastry flutter out of his mouth and he closes his eyes as if in prayer. He hands the roll back to Makoto with a pleased hum.

“Man, that is awesome. You always have such amazing food.” Seijuurou noisily chews. Makoto just shrugs with a pleasant smile.

“What’s your secret?”

“Secret?”

“You know, I think you’re not telling me something, Tachibana.” Seijuurou leans forward with a benevolent grin. “I think you’re holding out on me.”

What the hell was all this? What was the Captain talking about? Makoto just wants to eat his lunch in peace and enjoy his quiet afternoon.

“You’ve got a girlfriend don’t you?” Seijuurou pokes Makoto in the chest and grins wide and victorious. Makoto’s brain fizzles and short circuits.

“Wha..?” He squeaks.

“Don’t deny it! I know lunches made with love when I see them!” Seijuurou leans back dramatically.

“I…I buy this!”

“Eh?” Seijuurou cracks.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. There’s a bakery down the road…” Makoto stares at his Captain’s disbelieving face. “I’ll show you!”

 

The door bells chime when Makoto enters Iwatobi-chan’s for the second time that day. Seijuurou travels right behind him. He enters the bakery slowly, letting his eyes take in the sights in front of him. He notices the ornate wallpaper, the potted lilies that stand in the corner, and the white tables and chairs that are scattered around the floor. Then his eyes land on the display cabinets.

“Tachibana! There!” He wraps an arm over Makoto’s shoulders and pulls him towards the bain-marie where he can see more spinach and ricotta rolls.  
“I need 20.” His eyes glisten.

“Makoto?” Haru enters at the loud commotion. His gaze falls on Makoto with the strange man draped across him.

“Oh hi, Haru! This is my…”

“Seijuurou Mikoshiba.” Seijuurou stands and goes to shake Haru’s hand. Haru looks at it, but doesn’t reciprocate.

“Haruka Nanase.” He replies coldly. Seijuurou almost looks phased, but then he sees a tray of glazed fruit tarts in the cabinet.

“Tachibana!” He grabs Makoto by the wrist and tugs him towards him.

“Look at these! Wow, they’re beautiful. Are they good?”

“They are good.” Makoto laughs, feeling that his Captain’s joy is infectious. But Haru doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from where Seijuurou’s hand is clasped around Makoto’s wrist. He can’t help but stare when Seijuurou leans very close to Makoto and energetically says something in his ear, that makes them both laugh.

“I think I’ll take that one then.” Haru just manages to diffuse Seijuurou’s words. Haru’s head is ringing and his complexion is pale. _What is this?_ Makoto notices that something is wrong. He stands up and leans against the cabinet. He doesn’t want to go behind the counter during service hours, but he has to remind himself of that when he sees the distant look on Haru’s face.

“Haru?”

“I’m uh…” Haru wants to say “fine”, but the way his stomach knots itself is definitely not _fine_. “Uh Gou?”

Gou skips out from the kitchen. Her long ponytail trails elegantly behind her.

“Oh Makoto! You’re back.” She cheerfully bounces over to him. “Did you need something else?”

Makoto still nervously watches Haru.

“Uh no, my Captain here needed…” But Makoto is once again yanked down to his knees.

“Tachibana! What is a ‘cardamom slice’?” Seijuurou drapes an arm over Makoto’s shoulders again, and Haru gets a violent pang in his stomach.  Makoto rolls his eyes at his captain, but lets himself be pulled in all the same.

“It’s good. Get one.” Makoto laughs.

“You say that about everything.”

“Everything’s good!” Makoto laughs louder and glances up at Haru, who still leans against the doorframe looking pale. “Haru is the best.”

Haru relaxes slightly and the pang in his stomach turns to butterflies.

 

“Uh, sir? Could I get you something?” Gou kneels down on the opposite side of the cabinet to look at Seijuurou. His eyes still greedily scan the assortment in front of him, but he seems to have come to some sort of decision.

“Uh, yeah. Can I get a….haaaaa….” Seijuurou finally glances up at the girl opposite him. The sounds die in his mouth and Makoto feels Seijuurou’s body stiffen against him. His face starts to flush a shade that would challange his fiery hair. He slowly starts to stand, never losing eye contact with Gou. His arm slips off of Makoto’s shoulders and falls rigidly at his side.

“Cute.” He whispers.

“Sorry?” Gou stands and flicks her gaze from Seijuurou to Makoto.

“Ha, ha ha, sorry, uh…” Seijuurou finally blinks and begins to stammer. Makoto wonders if he should step back and just watch his captain unravel, and while it is tempting, his conscience gets the better of him.

“Captain, this is Kou. She’s Rin Matsuoka’s younger sister.” Makoto steps forward and nods at Gou. She smiles and bows her head towards Seijuurou, her long, red, hair falling forward and her bright, crimson, eyes peak out from behind her bangs. Seijuurou takes in the colour of her hair, the shade of her eyes and the lilt of her half smile. It suddenly clicks.

“M…Matsuoka?!” His eyes shoot wide.

“You know my brother?” Gou smirks. Seijuurou nods and a wide grin cracks his nervous complexion. “I see him and Sousuke a lot. We all hang out after work sometimes, when our shifts line up.”

“Hmmm.” Gou hums and pointedly looks at Seijuurou from top to bottom. “Now what can I get you?”

 

Seijuurou orders a fruit tart, two cardamom slices, two spinach and ricotta rolls and a blueberry muffin. Gou gathers all of these for him, occasionally humming or replying whilst he animatedly chats to her. Makoto joins in their friendly conversation, but still casts his eyes up to where Haru hovers next to Gou. He hasn’t disappeared into the kitchen, which is a good sign, but he also hasn’t said anything else. Gou rings up their order and they exit the building. Seijuurou has an extra spring in his step.

 

“Jeez” Gou chuckles and sighs. She slumps forward on the service counter and looks over her shoulder at Haru. He wears a sour expression.

“What’s up with you?”

Haru’s eyes narrow and he opens his mouth to answer, but the sound is drowned out by the door bells chiming and hard footfalls slamming onto the tiled floor. Seijuurou sprints up to the counter and throws down a piece of paper.

“Forgot something! Sorry!” And with a quick wave he exits the building again. Haru’s cold eyes follow him down the sidewalk until he’s out of view.

“What a pain.” He sighs. Gou smiles and glances down at the piece of paper.

“He’s not so bad.” She shyly smiles. Haru wrinkles up his nose.

“Him and Makoto seemed close.” He crosses his arms and scratches at his bicep. He seems to fold into himself.

“You don’t know if…” He mumbles into his chest. Gou stands to hear him better, but he doesn’t say anything else. Then a huge grin slowly creeps along her features, exposing her teeth. She looks alarmingly like her brother.

“Haruuuuu~” She coos and slides into his personal bubble, hands behind her back.

“Does the captain make you nervous?” She lifts up onto her tip toes to get into Haru’s face. He looks away with a scoff.

“I just don’t like him.” He sounds bored, but there’s a strained subtext. “He shouldn’t touch Makoto like that.” He breathes. Gou knows she should be supportive of her boss and friend, but she is getting just too much enjoyment out of this.

“Are you jealous?” She purrs and cocks her head to the side. Haru doesn’t dignify her with an answer. He stays slumped over pouting.

“Welp!” Gou lets out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I don’t think Makoto is his type.” She saunters away towards the kitchen.

“Makoto’s everyone’s type.” Haru deadpans. Gou giggles a bit at this. _You are in trouble, Haru._

“Mmmmmm I don’t think so.” Her voice is high, in that knowing-little-sister way. Haru looks down his nose at her.

“How can you be so sure?”

At this Gou’s eyes glint and she chuckles darkly. She holds up the small piece of paper Seijuurou had slammed on the counter just moments before.

“Because he just gave me his number.”

 

Seijuurou starts to come in at least once a week, but the sight of him doesn’t cause Haru to have as violent a reaction as the first time they’d met. Haru chats to him sometimes, but usually he keeps his distance. After all, it’s clear why Seijuurou comes to the bakery so often. Makoto still remembers Haru’s pale face and cold eyes, but the next time they see each other he seems back to normal. Makoto just thinks meeting new people must make Haru nervous.

 

“Ho man, this place smells great.” Two police officers enter Iwatobi-chan’s during a chilly November afternoon. They’re rugged up in their uniforms and light frost dusts their shoulders and caps. Their red noses and cheeks start to heat up.

“Gou?” The shorter one calls out. Gou pokes her head out from the kitchen, then sighs.

“I told you to call me Kou.” She grumbles. “Onii-chan~” Rin bristles at the pet name.

“Alright, alright.” He growls. Sousuke wanders over to the display case to admire the different treats on display. His gaze lands on a very familiar looking red velvet cake.

“Is this where Makoto got your cake?” He asks towards his partner. Rin shuffles over to have a look at it, but at the sound of Makoto’s name, a pale, blue eyed baker peeks into the main service area of the bakery. He takes in the shorter officer. Well built, but with sharp teeth, red hair and cutting red eyes. Ah, so _this_ was Rin.

“Must be. You know how Makoto goes on about this place.” Rin rolls his eyes. A surge of heat fills Haru’s chest and his feet pull him out into the service area. These were Makoto’s friends after all. He should at least introduce himself.

Rin catches the movement and looks up to see the baker approaching. Sleek, dark hair, slim waist, and piercing eyes. Rin’s eyes widen with excitement and his mouth falls into a predatory grin. He elbows Sousuke repeatedly in the ribs.

“Ah, shit, jesus what?” Sousuke hisses, but follows Rin’s enamoured gaze to where Haru stands.

“Ooohhhh~” Sousuke eases and smirks. Gou notices the sudden interest and wanders over.

“Uh… Rin, this is my boss…”  
“Haru.” Rin finishes. “Phwoar, shit you _are_ really pretty.”

Haru chokes and glares at Gou. She shakes her head, wide eyed and innocent.

“I do _not_ talk about you. I swear.”

“Tch, not her.” Rin growls. “She never tells me anything.”

Gou pokes her tongue out at her brother.

“No, No, Makoto talks about you all the time. He really loves this place.” Rin leans on the display cabinet.

“Oh.” Haru fiddles with his apron strap. “He does seem to like the food here.”

Rin has to stop himself from falling over laughing. Instead he shares a knowing look with Sousuke.

“Yeaaaah, the food.” He drawls.

 

“Haru, sorry I’m late I…” Speak of the devil. Makoto freezes at the tense atmosphere. His eyes bounce from Haru’s shy smile, to Gou looking like she’s about to fall into a fit of giggles, to Sousuke cooly smiling, then finally resting on Rin’s victorious grin. Oh no. _Not Rin._ Makoto feels an electric pulse coarse through his body, straightening and stiffening every part of him. He makes his way over to Rin in three long strides, grabs him by the arm, and pulls him out of the bakery.

“Excuse me.” He simply says.

 

“Jesus, ach, let go of me!” Rin fusses until Makoto throws him out of his grip onto the sidewalk outside. Sousuke emerges behind them and looks on with interest.

“What’s the big idea? A guy can’t pick up his sister from work?”

“What did you say?” Makoto’s voice is lower. Lower than Rin’s ever heard and his emerald eyes are blazing.

“Whaaaat? You don’t trust me?” Rin straightens his jacket and smirks, but Makoto is having none of it. He creeps right against Rin and towers over him.

“What. Did you. Say?” Makoto breathes. Rin shudders underneath his glare.

“I…” He squeaks, then shakes his head. Jesus, this was Makoto. He pushes Makoto out of his space with a snarl.

“Jesus, calm down. I didn’t tell Haru about your big, gay, crush on him.” Rin laughs.

“Rin,” Sousuke barely manages to warn before Makoto is up in Rin’s face again.

“I do not have a…!” But then he remembers himself. And where he is. And that windows are not sound proof.

“I do not have a big, gay crush on him!” He hisses. Rin only raises an eyebrow, not letting himself be intimidated.

“Fascinating.” He deadpans.

 

Makoto tries to forget that day whenever he spends time with Haru. He still has no idea what Rin said, if anything. “Nothing bad.” Is all he gets out of Gou. But Haru doesn’t act any differently around him, and he continues to save and specially prepare meals for Makoto. He makes sure to put extra spices into his pasties to keep him warm on the frozen winter days, and Makoto surprises him by showing up with a bag of barley tea, Haru’s favorite, one brisk Saturday morning. Makoto smells like smoke again and his hair and cheeks are dusted with black snow. Haru’s expression hardens at the sight, but then softens when the tea is pushed into his hands.

“You remembered.” He says.

“Of course. I remember everything you tell me.” Makoto replies nonchalantly.

Haru turns away before Makoto can see the light blush dust his cheeks. He starts to brew the tea for the both of them, whilst Makoto gets stuck into a lump of dough that needs kneading. He can read Haru and his routine well enough now that he rarely has to be told what to do. Makoto enjoys the silence of the bakery. It’s soothing over all the yelling and frightened screaming he was exposed to just hours before. The sound of wood loudly crackling in his ears. Captain Mikoshiba’s orders being barked at him and muffled through his helmet. Winters were always hardest.

            “Funny.” Haru’s low voice pulls him out of his memories. “I remember everything too.”

“Oh yeah?” Makoto’s tired voice asks. Haru nods. He pours the boiling tea into two mugs and places one in front of Makoto. Makoto smiles gratefully and takes it.

“Yeah.” Haru answers. He coyly looks up at Makoto from beneath his dark lashes. “Like apparently… you think I’m really pretty.”

Makoto gasps so hard that he inhales a cloud of flour. It coats his lungs and he doubles over with wracking coughs. Haru laughs at him over his mug of tea. It’s quiet and light, but the sound bubbles through Makoto’s core. He wishes he could stop dry heaving to appreciate the sound more.

 

Makoto skulks into the bakery one day and Haru is surprised to see him. It’s Makoto’s day off. He never comes in on his day off. It’s late in the afternoon, the slowest time of day. Makoto is rugged up in a leather jacket and plaid flannel. He’s also wearing glasses. He never mentioned needing glasses. Makoto tracks in slush from outside, but despite the freezing temperatures, his face is flush with heat. Haru quickly moves in front of the counter, looking worried.

“Makoto, it’s your day off. You should be resting.” Haru chides. Makoto smiles and shakes his head.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He blushes deeper and starts to pull something out of his back pocket. Haru can’t stop staring at him. He’s never seen Makoto in casual clothes before. He didn’t even know the man owned a pair of jeans. And wow, what a tight pair of jeans.

“Here.” Makoto unfurls the pamphlet for Haru to see. It’s a poster for an event. The heading reads ‘Public Servant’s Christmas Ball’.

“They have one every year. It’s kind of a big deal. It’s a lot of fun! Everyone gets really dressed up and there’s lots of good food and music and drinks…” Makoto anxiously scratches at his jaw. “But I always end up awkward third wheeling with Rin and Sousuke, and the Captain always brings a girl so it’s not any better with him.” He laughs. Haru looks at the poster. He smirks at the bad clip art of couples dancing and the list of events that will be there.

“Soooo?” He looks up expectantly.

“Will you awkwardly fourth wheel with me?” Makoto shrugs and grins. His eyes plead above the dark frames of his glasses. The idea of being in a crowded hall with a bunch of strangers makes Haru nervous. But Makoto will be there.

“Is it formal?” He asks. Makoto winces at the question.

“Yeah? Yeah it kind of is.”

Makoto _in a suit_ will be there.

“Ok.” Haru tucks the pamphlet into his apron. “I’ll go with you.”

 

The people and the noise do bother Haru, but it is worth it. It is _so_ worth it. Makoto waits outside of the events centre for him, wearing a dark charcoal suit, black trench coat and a green tie that sets the colour of his eyes off wonderfully. Haru knows Makoto has to be fit to be a firefighter, but he has never been able to appreciate just how broad his shoulders are, or how strong his thighs and forearms look.

“Haru,” Makoto breathes and his warm breath comes out in puffs in the cold air. Haru wears a navy blue suit that fits him obscenely well. His legs look longer and his hips and waist appear narrower. The slim tie and lapels also make Haru look expensive and sophisticated.

“You ready?” Haru struggles to not sound too nervous. Makoto nods and leads the way onto the hall.

 

“Makoto!” Rin and Sousuke yell across the room. It’s warm and there are bodies mingling everywhere. The air smells strongly of holiday scents like cinnamon, apple and nutmeg, but the music that drones over the speakers is mercifully not Christmassy. Makoto pulls Haru over to the table that Rin and Sousuke sit at. There are punch glasses in front of them and a plate of hors d’oeuvres. Sousuke lightly waves with his mouth full bruschetta. Rin rakes his eyes over Makoto, then he smirks when he sees Haru.

“Haru, what a surprise to see you here.” His voice drips with sarcasm. He shows off his sharp teeth and waggles his eyebrows at Makoto.

“You look very handsome. Doesn’t he, Makoto?”

Sousuke lightly punches Rin in the shoulder. He grimaces, but gets the message.

“You both look nice.” Sousuke stands and holds out his hand to Haru. “I’m Sousuke Yamazaki. I never got to introduce myself before.”

“Haruka Nanase.” Haru shakes Sousuke’s hand. He appreciates his calm and serious demeanour. He counter balances Rin’s volatile personality nicely.

“I’m Rin’s partner.”

“In _every_ sense of the word.” Rin teases with a wink and Sousuke actually looks ruffled. He coughs and tugs at his collar.

“Uh… yeah.”

 

Makoto and Haru sit at the table, nibbling at the food in front of them. Haru doesn’t say much, but he sits back and appreciates the casual conversation that unfolds between Sousuke, Rin and Makoto. Rin grabs them several glasses of spiced punch, which Haru slowly sips. Makoto grabs a handful of pastries that walk past on a servers tray and everyone keenly asks Haru’s opinion. He refuses.

“It’s not fair to compare.”

“Ooooh,” Rin smirks. “You sound confident.” Haru just shrugs.

“Don’t ask Makoto, he’ll say Haru’s are way better.” Sousuke leans onto his hand.

“Well they are.” Makoto nervously chuckles.

“Where’s Mikoshiba? He’s eaten at the bakery before right? He’ll give us an honest opinion.” Rin cranes his neck to try and look for Seijuurou’s iconic flaming hair through the crowd.

“I don’t see him.” Sousuke says.

“He’s easy to spot. Just look for the gaudiest couple in the place. He’s always got the tackiest dates.” Rin complains. At this Haru smiles, and chuckles ever so quietly.

“I wouldn’t say that…” He gives a knowing look. Rin doesn’t notice, but Makoto watches Haru suspiciously.

“There he is!” Sousuke announces. Rin follows his finger.

“OI! MIKOSHIBA!” Rin stands on his chair and waves.

“MATSUOKA!” Comes the jubilant reply. Seijuurou pulls his date away from several firefighters, who all laugh at her charm, and towards Rin’s table.

“Tch, this girl he’s got. She’s got the whole fire department eating out of her hands. Seijuurou better watch out, she’ll eat him up and dump him.” Rin hops off his chair and sits on the table.

“ _Reeeaaallly?_ ” Haru asks, his eyes lighting up with anticipation.

“Tchyeah, this girl’s obviously a player. No one…” But then Seijuurou’s date comes closer. The gold of her dress hugs her hips and sparkles in the light, casting glittery lights across her cheeks and dark red eyes.

“GOU?!” Rin growls. Sosuske whips his head around, then barks out a loud laugh when he sees her. He keeps laughing until tears appear in his eyes and Rin kicks him in the shins. Haru and Gou locks eyes and nod to each other.

“You knew.” Makoto whispers.

“Oh yeaaah.” Haru purrs into his glass of spiced rum.

Seijuurou looks like he wants to explode with joy. He’s glowing with Gou on his arm and he keeps glancing at her like he can’t believe she’s really there. Makoto half expects him to point at her and go “huh, HUH? AM I RIGHT?”. Gou fondly smiles back at him, but then exhales and rolls her eyes when she sees her brother.

“Gou! What are you…?! You can’t…?!”

“Hello brother.” She drawls.

“You look lovely Kou.” Makoto chimes in.

“Yeah, really beautiful.” Sousuke affirms. Seijuurou grins wider and nods with them. _I know. I KNOW!_ He wants to shout.

“Thank you Makoto, Sousuke.” She clings to Seijuurou’s arm tighter and he blushes.

“You look very nice, Haru. Good to see you out of your aprons.”

“Thank you.”

“And Makoto! You look amazing! Very sexy.” Gou grins. Seijuurou blusters next to her.

“Don’t worry, you still look the best.” She pushes his chest slightly. He laughs and kisses her on the cheek. They are sickeningly cute.

“NO! NO! I will not abide this!” Rin tries to burst in between them, but Seijuurou expertly pulls Gou close to him and side steps Rin.

“See ya, Matsuoka!” He laughs jovially. An upbeat pumping song starts to play and his eyes light up. “Gou! C’mon! Come dance with me!”

“It’s Kou. Kou. How many times…” She rolls her eyes and is towed through the crowd. Rin watches them, still vibrating in fury.

“If he touches her, I swear!”

Sousuke grabs Rin by the waist and pulls him onto his lap.

“She’s an adult. And you like Mikoshiba.”

“NOT ENOUGH!”

“Riiiinnnn~~” Sousuke nuzzles into the back of Rin’s neck and this seems to soothe the beast. He melts against Sousuke’s chest and laces their fingers together. This is it. Awkward third wheel time approaches. Makoto sends Haru a glance, then directs his gaze over to an exit door that leads out onto a balcony. Haru understands, and nods.

 

They weave their way through though the crowd, with Makoto nodding to several people he knows. He also grabs him and Haru two glasses of water that walk by on a server’s tray. Haru gratefully downs the water then steps out onto the balcony. The air is cold, but refreshing on Haru’s skin. It washes away the stifling heat and overpowering smell of the event hall. The sound of people and music is dulled when the door to the balcony closes.

 

The balcony is empty. Fairy lights and lanterns hang all around, casting the area in a warm glow. Haru turns towards Makoto, but forgets what he was going to say. Makoto’s hair catches the light and it engulfs him in a halo.

“Haru?” Makoto asks when he notices Haru staring.

“Sorry.” Haru tears his eyes away. They both walk to the iron railing and lean on it. They look down into the gardens below, which have also been decorated with fairy lights and paper lanterns to mark the pebble paths. The gold lights make Haru’s skin look luminescent.

“Are you having an ok time?” Makoto sounds worried. Haru smiles and nudges him. The smell of spiced rum still surrounds Makoto.

“Yeah. I’m having fun.”

Makoto nudges Haru back.

“Thank you for coming with me. It’s been much better this year with you here.”

Haru grips the railing tightly, because he feels like he’s going to fall.

“And…” Makoto swallows. He looks at Haru, admiring how his suit hangs on his body and how beautiful he looks in the night light. “You look really nice.” He sighs.

Haru shakes his head and laughs. “I knew you thought I was pretty.”

“Haaarruuuuuu” Makoto whines and covers his face with his hands. He wants to melt into the floor. He was going to kill Rin.

“Hey,” Haru grabs Makoto’s wrists and pulls his hands away. “I’m joking.” Haru loses himself in Makoto’s glistening eyes.

“And you look very nice too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Haru drops Makoto’s hands and they both resume leaning on the railing. They look up at the stars and breathe in the cold night air. A small heater in the corner keeps the harshest of the night’s chills away. The music in the event hall changes and begins to slow to a steady rhythm. The bass of it is barely audible. Makoto leans back and gently sways with the beat.

“I like this song.” He continues to sway. A content smile plays on his lips. Haru hums at him. He looks at Makoto’s hips, his broad shoulders and he feels his hands tingle with a desire to reach out. Makoto sways and Haru longs to press himself against him.

“Do you uh…” Haru tries. “Do you like dancing?”

Makoto laughs, and it reminds Haru of bells.

“Yeah, I’m not very good at it. And it’s dumb. But it’s fun.” Makoto stops swaying and shrugs.

“I’ve never… I’ve never danced with anyone.” Haru leans forward and stares down into the gardens. Makoto isn’t sure how to feel. He’s sad, because someone like Haru should have had people lining up around the block to be close to him. But he’s also happy… because then maybe… this could be something he could give Haru.

“Did you… Did you want to?” He tries to catch Haru’s eye. Haru glances up and just nods. He turns himself into Makoto and lets Makoto pull his body in close. The atmosphere changes between the. What once was slow and lazy is now calculated and charaged with electricity. Makoto lays his hands on Haru’s slim waist and leans his head down next to Haru’s ear.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

Haru swallows, does as he’s told, then feels his body start to sway with the music. Makoto moves him around easily, but he still knocks his foot into Makoto’s.

“Sorry” Haru stutters.

“It’s ok.” Makoto chuckles and Haru can feel it rumble from Makoto’s chest into his own. He wants to feel more. Slowly, bravely, he pushes himself closer against Makoto, and Makoto holds him tighter. Haru leans his head on Makoto’s broad chest and breathes deep the smell of lilac laundry detergent and nutmeg. There’s not a trace of smoke. Haru sighs contentedly.

 

They sway together, not feeling the cold on their backs or the slight hum in their heads from the rum. They get lost in each other, each one craving to bring the other flush against them. Makoto leans his head down onto Haru’s shoulder and aches to turn his head sideways to nuzzle into his neck. Haru flexes his hand on Makoto’s shoulder, feeling the need to touch all of Makoto. He pulls his hand off of his shoulder and rests it against his chest. Haru stares at it with interest, feeling Makoto’s heartbeat thud against his rib cage. Then the music stops.

 

Makoto lifts his head and Haru picks up his hand, pushing against Makoto’s chest gently. He feels Makoto’s arms unwind from his waist.

“How was that?” Makoto sighs. The tips of his ears are red and his mouth looks soft.

“It was nice.” Haru smiles. “Thank you.”

Makoto glances at his watch and notes the time. He knows Haru has to be up early to start his morning routine.

“Did you need to head home?”

“Yeah.” Haru sighs.

“I’ll walk you.” Makoto beams.

 

They walk along the river with the moonlight glinting off the calm water next to them. They don’t say much, but share shy glances with one another. Makoto nervously laughs whenever their eyes meet and Haru smiles. Their breath puffs out in front of them, and a cold wind brushes up frost at their feet. Haru shudders in just his suit.

“You ok?”

“Yeah.” But then Haru shudders again. Makoto tentatively reaches his arm out to wrap around his narrow shoulders and pull him into his side. Haru bends himself into the warmth and contact. They continue to walk slowly, knowing they should both get home to bed, but wanting to prolong the night. Eventually they come to Haru’s town house. The front door is royal blue, with a large bronze knocker on it. Like his bakery, there are flower boxes outside of the windows, but there are also small green shrubs that line the path to his front door. Makoto walks him up the steps to the door.

“Thank you…again.”

“Stop thanking me. I said it was fun.” Haru sighs. Makoto chuckles.

“You did.”

A cold pause yawns between them. Makoto isn’t sure how to leave Haru, or if he even wants to.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Haru asks.

“It’s my day off. But I’ll definitely come in the next day.” Makoto looks apologetic. Haru knows his schedule. Of course he wouldn’t see Makoto tomorrow… but he had hoped.

“I uh… I’ve gotta let you…”

“Yeah.” Haru breathes. Makoto smiles and starts to leave, when he feels Haru grab his sleeve.

“Makoto!” He grips tightens his grip and pulls Makoto close to him. Makoto is over him, so close. Hiss heart beat thuds in his ears. Haru’s right there, looking up with gleaming eyes and a parted mouth. He just has to lean down. He can taste Haru’s cologne on his tongue already.

“Makoto”

“Yeah.” He pants.

Haru can feel his feet start to roll onto his tip toes when he wills them back down. He pulls his face away and loosens his grip.

“Make sure you get lots of rest, ok?”

Makoto feels his heart sink. Disappointment starts to wash over him, but he doesn’t let himself drown in it. Maybe he had read the situation wrong? He can’t be upset. He doesn’t let himself be. As long as Haru continues to be his friend, that’s all he cares about.

“You always worry about me.” Makoto lightly chuckles. “Don’t worry. I will.”

He starts to back down the steps.

“Goodnight, Haru.”

“Goodnight.”

 

Haru knows Makoto won’t be visiting that day, but he still picks up his head expectantly whenever the door bells ring. At 11am, 30 minutes late to her shift, Gou stumbles in.

“I’m sorry!” She is disheveled and there are large bags under her eyes. Her coat hangs off one of her shoulders and her unbrushed hair is forced back into a bun. Haru would usually say something, but Gou looks like she’s punished herself enough.

“I’ll stay back late. I promise.” She blows past Haru and hangs her coat and bag on a hook. She hastily ties an apron on and Haru notices a glint of gold glitter sparkle on her neck.

“Have you showered?” He asks. Gou rolls her head over to look at him with distaste.

“No.” She clips. “Believe me. I’d like to.”

She walks past Haru to wash her hands, and he catches the unmistakable scent of perfume, cologne and spiced rum. Haru wrinkles his nose and winces.

“Have you even gone home?”

Gou makes a small noise. She stiffens under Haru’s gaze. She hunches her shoulder and scrubs her hands harder.

“Nooooooo.” She growls.

“Mmmm.” Haru hums perceptively and goes back to melting chocolate over a steaming pot.

“Y…you don’t know.” Gou stammers defensively.

“I know enough.” Haru chuckles.

 

He moves lightly around the kitchen for the rest of the day. There’s a new passion to his tasks and he chats more with Gou about small things. He listens to her complain about her brother and the deluge of text messages she’s received since last night. He even lets Gou take an extra 30 minutes for her lunch break to nap in the back corner. Haru of course has to serve in this time, but he doesn’t mind his customers so much today.

“Sooooo~” Gou leans next to him once he’s finished serving an old woman some date loaf.

“How was _your_ night last night?” She leers.

Haru flushes and fiddles with the money that’s been handed to him. He smiles to himself.

“Holy shit.” Gou whispers. “You just smiled.” Her eyes shoot wide with wonder.

Haru reverts back to his bored expression.

“I smile.”

“You have never smiled.” Gou raises her eyebrows.

“I smile with Makoto.” Haru allows himself to smile again, but quickly turns to go hide in the kitchen. Gou holds onto the counter to stop herself from falling over.

“Must have been a good night then!” She calls.

 

Haru anxiously waits for Makoto to come in the next day. He is fiddly and his nerves are on edge. He has a pastie and apple turnover packed and ready to go for Makoto for lunch. There’s extra pepper in the pastie and an additional coating of powdered sugar on the apple turnover. They’re freshly made with flaky and buttery pastry. But then it’s late afternoon, and the pastry starts to get soggy. The syrup starts to leak out of the apple turnover and Gou looks sympathetically at Haru every time someone enters the bakery that _isn’t_ Makoto. The sun starts to fall low on the horizon, catching flecks of dust in the air and making them sparkle, and Haru wonders what he did wrong.

Did Makoto not like spending that night with him? Was he mad that Haru hadn’t kissed him? No… Haru couldn’t believe that. He was scared, this thing with Makoto was new to him, and while he was sure Makoto was probably disappointed… he couldn’t fathom him being so spiteful. No, Makoto was patient. He was kind. He was understanding. He wouldn’t stop seeing Haru just because he hadn’t kissed him….would he?

Haru walks home slowly, never being able to shake the chill from his bones.

 

The next day is Saturday. Haru’s favorite day of the week, and he’s hopeful. Perhaps Makoto had had a hangover and was just sleeping the previous day off before his night shift? He should be coming off of his shift any minute now. Sweaty, possibly smelling like smoke, and wired with energy. He’d offer to help Haru scrub pots and pans, all the dirty work he knew Haru hated. Because Makoto was selfless like that.

 

But Makoto doesn’t come in.

 

Haru can make out the first rays of sunlight and his heart drops. He knows Makoto has definitely finished with his shift by now. And he loves his job, so he wouldn’t have skipped a shift. Suddenly the bakery is too cold, too big and the silence chills Haru to the core. He has to distract himself. He can’t stand how quiet it all is without Makoto’s voice chatting away. There’s a dusty radio in the corner, covered in layers of old flour, that he crackles on to life. A soft pop song fills the kitchen and Haru sighs. At least he doesn’t have to listen to his own anxious thoughts now. He starts to measure out cups of ingredients and loosely folds them together in a large mixing bowl. The pop song fades to a piece of house music, before the radio hosts start to chat. Haru has basically tuned everything out now, fully engrossed in his baking, when the hosts starts to read the morning’s news. It’s a small town, so news usually consists of local celebrity gossip, home break ins, and kittens that have been taught to ride skateboards.

 

Haru drops his spoon when he hears the word _Fire._

 

_A large fire in an apartment complex. The cause of the fire has not yet been determined, but the complex will have to be torn down. There have been three deaths reported, and several of the brave firefighters are in critical condition._

 

 _I never kissed him_. Haru’s head screams. _I never kissed him. I never kissed him. I NEVER KISSED HIM._ Haru’s lungs collapse. _I’ll never get to._  All of his senses shut down. He can’t hear the radio anymore, or smell the homey scents of his kitchen. His mouth goes dry and his vision starts to blur. The only things that work are his legs. They whip him out of the kitchen, through the eating area and out the front door. He doesn’t even bother to lock the bakery. His legs pump harder and he sprints down the street towards the firehouse. His lungs burn from the cold air, and several times Haru has to catch himself as he slips on the early morning ice. There’s a light snow on the ground and the melted water seeps into Haru’s shoes, but he doesn’t feel it. He just keeps thinking about Makoto. His warm smile, his kind eyes, how his large hands had felt on his waist. How Haru smiles more, laughs more, when he’s around.

 _Makoto._ Haru can’t feel his tears run down his cheeks and freeze when they fall onto the cold sidewalk. But he feels the ache in his chest. The churn of his stomach that makes him want to double over and vomit. But Haru perseveres. The firehouse appears over the hill like an omen.

 

Haru barely hesitates when he bursts through the doors. He keeps running until he realizes he has no idea where to look for Makoto. Around him several firefighters sit slumped over, looking battered and depressed. Haru screeches to a halt, his wet shoes sliding across the cement floor. The smell of smoke makes his stomach twist and he constricts his throat to stop from losing it’s contents. Then he catches sight of bright red hair. Seijuurou stands without his trademark smile. His face is blackened, eyes reddened, and there’s a dirty scrape along his cheek. Haru barrels into him

“Haru! What’re you…?”

“Where is he?” Haru grabs him by the front of his shirt and shakes him.

“Where is he?!” His voice cracks. His teary eyes wildly search around him, searching desperately for green eyes and broad shoulders. His fists tremble on Seijuurou’s chest.

“Where’s Makoto?! Tell me he’s here! Tell me he’s ok!” His shaking becomes violent. Seijuurou’s only ever heard Haru’s voice barely pitch above a whisper, so to hear him scream causes Seijuurou to freeze in shock.

“Haru…” He softly places a hand over Haru’s.

“Tell me!”

Several firefighters stand, ready to pull this strange man off of their captain. They had dealt with hysterical loved ones before and that’s what Haru was becoming.

 

“Haru?” A soft voice asks. Makoto descends the stairs and takes in the scene. Haru holds his breath. But it’s him. It’s Makoto. He’s there. His eyes are tired and his face is blotchy and covered in ash, but he’s _there._

 

Haru throws Mikoshiba to the side and runs up to Makoto. He grabs the front of his coat and yanks him down into a kiss before he can second guess himself. But Makoto doesn’t kiss him back. He pulls back sharply with a grimace.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Haru whispers. So Makoto _didn’t_ want him _._ His chest grows

cold and he finally starts to feel the tears flow down his face.

“I thought…” He whimpers. _What had he thought?_

 

Makoto’s chest aches and he steps closer to Haru, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“No, no, Haru, that’s not it.” He frantically explains. “I just…” He lifts his coat so Haru can see his hidden arm, close to his chest, in a sling. He also wears a shoulder brace. Haru delicately runs his fingers along it.

“A beam fell on my shoulder. I broke my collarbone.” Makoto smiles like it’s nothing.

“So you gotta warn me before you kiss me.” He blushes. Haru’s head buzzes. Warmth floods into his limbs and cheeks. The tears still fall from his cheeks, but he doesn’t try to wipe them away. His heart thuds loudly in his chest and he wonders if Makoto can feel it too.

“I’m uh…” He fiddles with the strap on Makoto’s shoulder brace. “I’m gonna kiss you again.” He whispers to the floor.

“Ok.” Makoto lifts up Haru’s chin and kisses him. He dives into it. He places his hands on either side of Makoto’s face and quickly escalates the kiss to open mouthed. He runs his tongue against Makoto’s bottom lip and tastes the dust that still lingers there from the fire. Makoto entwines his good arm around Haru’s waist and pulls him closer. His lithe body easily conforms to Makoto’s larger build. He works his hands into Makoto’s hair, and it crunches slightly from all the ash that’s worked its way into it. But Haru doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the dust being exchanged from Makoto’s mouth to his, or the overpowering stench of smoke and sweat. Haru appreciates all of these things, because they flood his senses, reminding him that Makoto is there. That Makoto is alive.

 

Haru starts to push harder against Makoto, bringing their chests together. Makoto bites Haru’s lip between his teeth and purrs.

“Careful.” He warns. Haru eases how hard he presses against him.

 

“Get some, Tachibana!”. The mood is ruined when the Captain calls out. Makoto had forgotten everyone was there. He breaks the kiss and blushes furiously. Haru still clings to him, and the glare he sends Seijuurou is murderous. Seijuurou shrugs apologetically. Haru doesn’t forgive him, but turns back to Makoto.

“So you’re ok?” He asks. His eyes still shine from recently shed tears.

“I’m fine.” Makoto presses their foreheads together. “Just a little…” But his speech slurs and his heavy weight drops onto Haru. His eyes close for a fraction of a second, but Haru manages to catch him.

“Whoa, sorry.” Makoto mumbles into Haru’s shoulder. He grips Makoto tightly. Seijuurou closely watches the exchange. Makoto had been fighting a deadly blaze from yesterday afternoon, and the physical exertion appears to have only just caught up with him.

 

“Take that boy home, Haru. He’s done enough today.” Seijuurou commands. Haru nods and helps to pick Makoto up. He throws his good arm over his shoulders and walks him out of the firehouse. He walks slowly, supporting Makoto the entire way. Haru finally notices how cold it is outside and worries if Makoto is warm enough. Makoto seems to read his thoughts.

“I’m fine.” He sighs. “I’m worried about you. You’ve just got your uniform on.”

“I’m fine.” Haru’s cheeks and nose are pink.

 

They stumble into Makoto’s apartment, but Haru doesn’t stop until he lays Makoto down on his bed. He shudders at the pressure on his shoulder, but then sighs when Haru starts to pull off his heavy uniform pants.

“I’m fine, Haru. I can do this.” He laughs breathily.

“It’s fine.” Haru has found a damp cloth and begins to wipe down Makoto’s sooty face. He rubs the dirt out of his cuts and cleans the dust off of his hands. Makoto leans into the touch when Haru wipes around his neck.

“You’re always trying to take care of me.”

“You still smell.”

Makoto should be offended, but he just laughs.  Haru rinses out the cloth, then sits down next to Makoto. He brushes the hair that clings to Makoto’s damp forehead out of the way.

“What happens to you now?” His narrow eyebrows knit together.

“What do you mean?” Makoto sighs. He’s so close to slipping to sleep.

“Will you still work?”

Makoto groans. “Yeah, but I’ll be confined to desk work. I can’t respond to anything.” He pouts.

“Good.” Haru bends over him and kisses him softly on the lips. He holds it for some time, but doesn’t deepen it. Makoto is smiling stupidly when he pulls away. He crack his eyes open and lifts a hand to card through Haru’s silky hair. He reminds Makoto of something precious, untouched by smoke or fire or death. Haru places his hand on top of Makoto’s, against his cheek.

“You have to go to work.” Makoto slurs.

“No I don’t.”

“Yeeeessss you doooo~” Makoto is grossly cute when he’s tired. Haru sighs and lets their hands drop.

“How about I stay with you until you fall asleep?” Makoto nods and smiles.

“I’ll visit you later.”

“Don’t you dare.” Haru growls. The last thing he wants is for Makoto to strain himself. “You are banned from my store for the rest of the day. You are to remain in this bed.”

“Haruuuu~” Makoto whines, but Haru quiets him with another chaste kiss.

“I mean it.”

“Fine.”

Haru only has to wait five minutes until Makoto sleeps soundly.

 

Haru thankfully doesn’t see Makoto for the rest of the day, but he is unnaturally quiet at work. Gou can smell fire in his hair when he walks close to her, but she doesn’t ask about it or Makoto’s absence that day.

 

Makoto makes sure to come in early the next day. He’s out of his uniform, explaining that he’s got the week off to recover. His arm still hangs in a sling and he’s wearing his glasses. Haru decides he rather likes the glasses. A lot. The air between them sparks and they both stammer when they see each other. Makoto isn’t sure what they are. Does he slip back into his old routine, or is he allowed to jump over the counter and kiss Haru breathless? Haru also looks particularly stiff and says fewer words than typical.

“Did you uh… Did you want your usual?”

“Uh… Actually…” Makoto straightens. “I need to order a cake!” He declares. Haru steps back.

“Ok?? When do you need it?”

Makoto hadn’t thought of this.  
“Soon?”

Haru shrugs and pulls out the form that Makoto had first filled out when he stumbled into the bakery months ago. There’s something very euphoric about seeing the form again. He properly reads over it this time, filling out his name and contact details with care. Under the “size of cake” question he ticks “1-4 people”. When he gets to “type of cake” he stalls.

“Uh Haru?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your favorite kind of cake. I’ve never asked.” Makoto leans forward with interest. Haru is rarely asked what he enjoys most. To be honest, he didn’t enjoy the sweet syrupy things, or the incredibly rich things. He has simple tastes.

“I like carrot cake.” He mumbles. Makoto beams at this piece of information. He writes “carrot cake” on the form. Then he comes to the part that says “Message”. Makoto doesn’t have to think about this part. He scrawls “will you go out with me?” excitedly across the page then hands it to Haru. Haru looks at it unblinking.

“I’ll have it for you by this afternoon.” He looks thoughtfully at the form. Makoto smiles.

 

When he returns in the afternoon, Gou excitedly greets him. She’s practically humming, but doesn’t give anything away when Makoto looks at her strangely. Makoto tries to look in the kitchen to catch a glimpse of Haru, but Gou throws herself into his line of vision.

“No peeking!” She warns. Makoto chuckles and wanders back to the service counter. Haru soon emerges from the kitchen carrying a blue and silver striped box.

“I just finished it.” He places it on the counter in front of Makoto. “Did you want to look at it to make sure it’s ok?” Haru sounds incredibly professional. Makoto nods.

 

The lid to the box is slowly lifted, revealing the small cake inside. It has white cream cheese frosting and the outside is dotted with little green flowers. Makoto looks expectantly in the middle to see his message, but instead Haru has written something different. Looking up at Makoto are just three letters.

 

_YES_

Makoto steps back, breathing out a laugh filled with joy and relief. He looks over at Haru who’s shyly looking at the ground, but glances up to meet Makoto’s gaze.

“This was for me, right?” He murmurs. Makoto laughs, breathy and exhilarated.

“Yes! Yes of course it is.” He leans on the counter again, wanting to leap over it and sweep Haru into his arms. Haru is blushing.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” He warns. Makoto closes his eyes and laughs.

“Ok.”

Haru leans across the counter and the cake to capture Makoto’s mouth. Their kiss is soft and sweet, and Makoto can’t stop smiling against Haru’s lips. Haru runs his hands through Makoto’s hair again, savoring the feeling of the ash free strands. He sighs and reluctantly breaks away.

“Do you wanna share this with me when you close?” He nods to the cake.

“My place?” Haru offers.

 

Haru doesn’t hide it when Gou catches him smiling anymore.


End file.
